


Aces

by misura



Category: The Sting (1973)
Genre: M/M, Strip Poker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-16
Updated: 2013-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-04 21:05:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1085690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know, kid,” Henry said, slowly unbuttoning his third shirt, “there's two things you should do when cheating at this game, and only one of them involves the cards.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aces

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> because any fandom that includes people playing poker should have a fic that includes people playing strip poker?

“You know, kid,” Henry said, slowly unbuttoning his third shirt, “there's two things you should do when cheating at this game, and only one of them involves the cards.”

Johnny looked at the two shirts that were already on the table, both neatly folded, and grimaced, and then he said, “Three things,” which was Johnny all right; always confident he had one up on you, even when it was abundantly clear to anyone with eyes in their heads that he didn't.

Henry chomped on his cigar for a bit, both to stay in form (details mattered when you were trying to radiate the fact that you were a rich asshole, and a jerkwad to boot) and to delay the asking for a bit, to see if maybe Johnny crack and spill on his own.

Johnny didn't, of course. At least Henry'd managed to teach him some proper patience, and much joy had it brought him.

“Fine,” he said. “I'll bite. What's the third?”

“Change the goal,” Johnny said, and Henry said, “The goal's winning,” because that was the goal in any game, but then Johnny said, “I think I win when you're so distracted by what I'm showing that you won't be paying attention no more to what cards are in your hand.”

Henry guffawed a laugh around his cigar. It was original, sure. A nice way of covering up the fact that Johnny was a terrible poker player (although, of course, compared to Henry, nearly everyone was, even when he didn't cheat).

“You're not showing me anything I haven't seen before,” he pointed out - nice and reasonable, if he did say so himself.

Johnny scowled at him and threw his cards on the table. “Fine. Of the last ten hands, I won two, and in the next ten, I doubt if I'm going to do any better. Are you happy?”

“Moderately,” Henry said. “You planned on making those socks of yours last another ten hands? How'd you imagine accomplishing _that_ little feat?”

“Figured I'd throw myself on your mercy,” Johnny said. “'cept I know you don't have any.”

“Damn right I don't,” Henry said, gathering up the cards for another round. (Johnny'd had a pair of sevens, which wasn't half-bad, given that Henry'd been sitting on a pair of threes himself.) “Now man up and let me see if I can get those socks off of you.”


End file.
